When I was young, into double digits but not yet a teen, I received the box set of The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis. Being an avid reader, there was a fair chance I would take to the books.
I did.
It was so fun to be swept away into epic adventures with four regular kids, who achieved such big things despite their shortcomings. I found the books exciting, inspiring and just scary enough.
My favourite characters were the Duffers, from The Voyage of the “Dawn Treader.” They were so backwards and ridiculous, refusing to implement logical rules, which their leader, the Magician, tried to convince them were for their own good.
“You wouldn't believe the troubles I've had with them. A few months ago they were all for washing up the plates and knives before dinner: they said it saved time afterwards. I've caught them planting boiled potatoes to save cooking them when they were dug up. One day the cat got into the dairy and 20 of them were at work moving all the milk out; no one thought of moving the cat.”1
Instead of listening to the Magician's instructions, the Duffers believed he was trying to make them slaves and refused to obey. Which bought them the punishment of being turned into invisible monopods.
Enjoying the simple ignorance of those silly Duffers, I never imagined I held a similar attitude towards the Old Testament. After all, it's easy to see the Duffers were making more work for themselves by planting cooked potatoes. It's less obvious to relate that to how I read the Bible.
It wasn't until Bible School I was finally forced to read through the entire Old Testament. What a scary thought! Reading through 39 books of outdated law, dramatic prophets, and boring lineages sounded a lot less fun than…well any other task, really.
One of my required courses was Old Testament Survey. Going to class was such a drag. But, since I had to attend, I applied myself diligently to the work and duly memorized book orders, key themes, and whatever else I needed to for the weekly exams.
Near the end of the semester, however, I realized something: The Old Testament is a lot more than genealogy (who begat who again?), ancient Hebrew poetry, and collected biographies of long-dead kings.
The Old Testament is about knowing God.
Up until this point, I thought the Old Testament didn't have one. Figuring it was only for pastors and scholars, I focused on reading the New Testament, and simply skipped the historical bits I didn't understand.
I was missing the Bible's purpose. I was washing my plates before I ate, and getting distracted by paradoxes, gruesome battles, and worrying about God smiting me the next time I fell asleep reading Numbers.
In essence, I was asking the Bible to be logical, but using faulty reasoning and assumptions as my basis for comparison. By asking the wrong questions of the Old Testament, I was applying a contradiction to my life. This left me confused.
Once I began looking at the Old Testament as a way to know God, it took away the work of reading it. I became engrossed in the passion the prophets had for the unseen God, and teary over the rebellious Israelites, who, if they would only stop sinning, would reap the blessings Jehovah was aching to pour over them.
If only the Duffers would believe the Magician wanted only good things for them, and wanted them to prosper and be joyful. Then their eyes would be opened and their lives less difficult.
If only I would seek God where He is already speaking, my eyes would open and my life would be filled with His abundant blessing. “And do not forget the things I have done throughout history. For I am God—I alone! I am God, and there is no one else like me,” (Isaiah 46:9 NLT).
The God of the Old Testament is still the same today. He does not change (Malachi 3:6; Hebrew 13:8).
Strive to meet Him in the Old Testament—what have you got to lose?
